


Ghosts

by roo



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-01
Updated: 2011-04-01
Packaged: 2017-10-17 10:53:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/176118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roo/pseuds/roo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being abandoned by Sylar, Luke goes on the run.  Alone and sick, he decided to hide in an abandoned mental hospital.  Only it's not as empty as he thought it would be...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghosts

Luke pulls his stolen Olds into the parking lot and looks at what's left of Dixmont State Hospital. The roof is gone, the first floor windows boarded up, and part of one wing has collapsed. It's perfect. He's heard people talking about the haunted hospital for a while - apparently something lately has stirred up the yokels. Even the teenagers and gang bangers are avoiding the place. That makes it a great spot for a fugitive to hide out. If any cops find him, Luke plans to play like he's a stupid kid checking out the ghosts. That should allow him to get away without killing anyone. He's trying to stay low, and killing cops attracts attention.

He hides the car in the underbrush near the rear entrance. It's not his best camouflage job, but he's exhausted and his ribs are sore, if not broken, thanks to the last team that tried to take him out. He'd been lucky; they were distracted when a bag lady saw them and screamed bloody murder. That bought Luke enough time to kill the team and limp away. He'd stolen a car, then drove all night and ditched it. That was four cars and three states ago. Based upon what he heard, their orders are to kill him, not capture, and while being at the top of the government's most-hated list may sound exciting, the reality is that he's tired and paranoid and all he wants is a chance to get away.

Now he's too exhausted to keep driving, his ribs hurt every time he takes a deep breath, plus he's got a migraine and feels like throwing up. He just needs someplace safe where he can rest and heal a little, then he can keep moving north. He's decided he's going to Alaska because it's big and easy to get lost in and it looks really cool. He can get a job on one of those fishing boats and make a fortune. Not that he's hurting for cash after ripping off that last ATM (which was what attracted the agents in the first place), but even Luke knows he needs to find a way to make money while staying under the radar. Sylar may have been an asshole, but he'd been right about some things.

The padlock on the front door is easily melted. The door creaks ominously as it opens, and Luke steps inside. The entryway is shrouded in shadows, the late afternoon sunlight too weak to penetrate far, and the air smells stale. Luke goes back to the car and pulls his pack and a flashlight out of the back and goes back into the hospital. He switches on the flashlight and plays it around, expecting to see a spring-loaded cat or some other horror movie cliché.

The paint is peeling off the walls, the floor covered in litter. There's plenty of graffiti - some of it is gang tags, and there's even a giant devil's head painted on one side wall. The red paint looks deep and rich in the glow from the flashlight, and the yellow eyes glare as Luke swallows nervously. He walks through the entryway into a hallway, then carefully makes his way upstairs. He's on the landing when he hears the front door slam shut behind him. He jumps, but tells himself it's only the wind.

The second floor is better. All of the windows are missing, leaving only gaping holes in the brick walls, but there's still plenty of light. The building looks empty and sad, not scary. Luke walks down a hallway, past the 'Help Me' written in six foot tall letters, and the rambling 'Forgive me father for I have sinned', written hundreds of times, accompanied by snippets of other prayers. Further along the words become older obscenities accompanied by bad pornographic drawings. He pokes around, finally finding a room in back with a mattress thrown in a corner. Probably where the local teenagers come to get high and screw. Luke doesn't care. He's slept in worse places than this in the three months since Sylar ditched him - he's slept on dirty concrete under overpasses and on dirt and leaves in the middle of the woods. Even a filthy mattress looks good to him these days. He gets his sleeping bag out of his pack, unrolls it on the mattress and is asleep in minutes.

*

The next morning is clear and beautiful, the sky a crisp blue dotted with puffy white clouds. The sunshine is bright, the birds are chirping, and Luke wakes and looks around and laughs at himself for being even a little spooked the previous night. The place isn't remotely scary in the daylight. He stretches and winces. The ribs are still way too sore and he still feels queasy and headachy. He fishes a power bar out of his pack and eats it, washing it down with a bottle of Mountain Dew, then gets up to explore.

Most of the place is trashed. Paint is peeling off the walls and ceilings and there are large chunks of plaster on the floor. There's plenty of graffiti everywhere, some of it new, some of it fading and peeling away. There's even some furniture that's been left behind, thrown into careless piles in corners of random rooms. There are also plenty of spiders, birds, bats and other wildlife. Luke makes a face as he slips on bird crap and almost falls, but he keeps opening doors randomly and poking around.

He's almost ready to quit and go back to his sleeping bag when he hears a noise. Nothing scary, just kind of a shuffle, coming from behind a door. He opens it, expecting to find another pigeon, and is shocked to see a man.

The room was a bathroom, once upon a time. The beige paint is mostly gone but a picture clings stubbornly to the wall. There are two sinks, one low and one high, and there's a man huddled under the higher sink.

"Hi," Luke squeaks. It's the first thing that pops into his head.

The man raises his head and looks at Luke, expressionless. His brown hair is too long and curls around his face, but he's clean shaven. In Luke's experience, this is rare for a bum or a junkie or whatever this guy is. When they reach the point of living in abandoned buildings and hiding under sinks they don't usually bother to bathe or shave. But this guy looks clean. He also looks like the lights are on but nobody's home - his brown eyes are empty. Luke could kill him, but he might come in handy.

"So," Luke starts. "Uh, I'm staying down the hall. On the mattress. If that's okay with you." The guy doesn't respond and Luke backs away. "Okay. Whatever. I'm Luke. I'll be gone in a day or so, so...you know." He turns away. "You want me to close your door again?"

The guy just lowers his head to his knees and ignores him, so Luke backs away and carefully closes the door before retreating to his mattress and taking a nap.

It's late afternoon when he wakes again. The sky is still clear. Luke takes a few minutes to bask in the sunlight and enjoy the feeling of being able to simply relax. He looks around lazily and suddenly notices he's not alone, and it's not Crazy Bathroom Guy. This time it's a girl, maybe twelve years old. Her curly black hair is pulled into pigtails, and she's wearing some kind of old-fashioned dress and no shoes or socks. A headless, naked doll dangles from her hand, held carelessly by one foot. She swings it as she stares at Luke.

"Hi," Luke says. This place is more crowded than he'd realized. He winces when pain shoots through his head as he sits up and faces her. "Is this your mattress?"

The girl shakes her head.

"I'm Luke." He wonders if he should offer to shake her hand or something. She seems young to be in a place like this, unless Crazy Bathroom Guy is her dad or something.

"I'm Alice," she offers.

"What are you doing here?"

"Waiting."

That's helpful, Luke thinks. "Waiting for what?"

She shrugs. "I don't know anymore. I did before, but now I don't." She gives him a considering look, one that makes Luke nervous. "Maybe waiting for you."

"Yeah," Luke says. "Is the guy hiding in the bathroom your dad or something?"

Her lip curls upward in a sneer, and Luke jumps as he hears a crash of thunder outside. He stares out the window, wondering where the hell that storm came from so fast. "He's something," she says. "But he's not my dad." Her tone drips with contempt.

Luke is going to ask something else, like where she sleeps and how she eats, but he hears the thunder again and jumps as he hears a door slam downstairs. When he looks back to where she was standing, Alice is gone.

Luke swallows around a sudden lump in his throat as he wonders...no. There's no such thing as ghosts. Just a crazy kid who knows how to get around the place. He looks outside again and sees clear blue sky and tries not to be spooked.

He digs in his backpack for a book and pulls out "The Shining" by Stephen King. He stares at the cover for a few moments, then puts it back. He decides to go back to sleep.

*

The next day Luke's ribs still hurt and he still feels like crap. It's beautiful outside, but the bright sunshine hurts Luke's eyes and gives him a headache. He feels tired and sick, and has to admit that maybe he's coming down with a cold or something. It's times like this that he really misses his mom. He doesn't want to die alone in some stupid abandoned building. Not that he's really worried about dying of a cold or anything, but he does miss having someone around to give a damn about what happens to him.

This time he decides to explore the first floor and see if there's anything he can use. But before he does, he leaves an expired power bar outside of Crazy Bathroom Guy's door. It never hurts to be nice to the neighbors.

The first floor is dark, since most of the windows are boarded up. Luke wanders around what might have been a dining room, since it's next to the kitchen. There's more graffiti, going back for years. There's more debris. It's kind of boring, really. He plays the flashlight around as he walks down a hallway, and jumps back when he sees something move in the shadows.

"Hello?" He feels like an idiot. It's probably just another pigeon. But he sees it again and follows it into a dark room, trying to figure out what it is. Maybe it's Alice, playing games. Yeah. Stupid kid tricks. He jumps when the door slams shut behind him. "Real funny," he says. Still, he looks around nervously. The air in this room is close and stagnant. His headache and nausea are getting worse.

A shadow detaches it from the far wall, and it's not Alice. This time it's an older guy, mostly bald, gray hair cropped close to his skull. He's short and pale and thin, kind of cadaverous. Luke swallows.

"Hey," he says. "I didn't know there were so many people here."

"There are a lot of us," the man says. He sounds amused. He gives Luke a measuring look before moving forward. "Too many. But that's the root of the problem. Too many people crowded in here now."

Luke isn't sure what to say. This guy seems sane, at least saner than Crazy Bathroom Guy. But people who live in abandoned buildings are at least a little crazy, by definition. Nobody lives in a place like this unless they don't have any place else to go. And crazy people who seem sane, they're the most dangerous ones.

"Sorry," Luke says. "I'm just here for a few days, you know, until I get better." He clears his throat. "I don't want any trouble."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah." Luke holds his hands up in what he hopes looks like an unthreatening gesture.

The man raises an eyebrow. "Luke Campbell. Microwave emission. How many people have you killed so far?"

Luke swallows, looks around for a way out. "Who are you? How do you know me?" He doesn't really care, he just wants to know if the building is surrounded, how many men he has to deal with. He wishes he had thought to bring his pack with him, because he hates to leave the clothes and food behind, but he can always steal more.

"We know a lot about you," the man says. "And in case you're wondering, we're not with the government. Not now." He walks forward and Luke staggers back.

"Stay away from me."

"You can't hurt us, Luke," the man says. He keeps moving forward, strolling casually, and Luke blasts him with microwaves.

Nothing happens. The man fades back into the shadows, and when Luke looks around he doesn't see anything. There's no smell of cooking meat, no smoke, no sign of the man at all. He tells himself that he didn't, at the last moment, see the hilt of a knife poking out of the base of the man's skull.

His head feels even worse, and Luke feels weaker, like he's drained all of his energy. This is the worst time in the world to get the flu, he thinks. His thoughts are sluggish, but he knows he has to get out and find someplace else, someplace safe, to stay.

Luke fumbles with the door knob before running upstairs to get his backpack. The sunshine stabs his eyes, making him stagger, and his head pounds. He has to bend over, hands on his thighs, and he retches but doesn't actually throw up. He braces his hands against the nearest wall and just stands there, panting, wishing the headache and nausea would disappear. When he looks up, he sees Alice in front of him.

"What..." He can't think straight.

"You're sick," Alice says. "Don't worry, we'll take care of you. Then you can help us."

Luke's head swims and his vision blurs. He feels himself falling, but something catches him before he hits the floor. When he opens his eyes, an invisible force is carrying him to his mattress and placing him gently on top of the sleeping bag. He should be scared, but he's so tired and miserable that he just wants to sleep. He hopes he'll wake up and find this is all a dream.

*

No such luck. The first time he wakes up, it's dark. There's a woman sitting nearby in an old chair, reading The Shining.

"You're awake," she says.

Luke tries to nod, but his head still hurts like hell.

"Don't try to talk," the woman says. She has a soft southern accent, maybe Texan, and her dark blonde hair shines in the moonlight. She turns on a camping lantern; the light is soft enough that it doesn't bother Luke's eyes. "You're sick and dehydrated," she continues. "Probably haven't had a decent meal in months, poor thing." She gets up and holds a water bottle out. "Here. No more soft drinks. They're bad for you."

She sounds like his mom. While that would have annoyed Luke once, now it makes him homesick. He obediently sips at the warm water, then sniffles a bit.

"There's also chicken noodle soup. It's from a can, but it's good for you." The woman bustles around a bit, and Luke sees that someone has set up a camp stove on the other side of the room. He blearily wonders why a bunch of ghosts need a stove, but then decides not to think about it too much. Thinking makes his head hurt. He sits up, bracing his back against the wall, and the woman brings him a bowl of soup. It tastes like the same soup his mom used to fix him when he was sick, and after a few bites he has to wipe away a stray tear.

"You okay, honey?" She sounds like she really cares.

"I miss..." his voice trembles and he has to stop and clear his throat. "I miss my mom," he says.

"I'm sorry," she says. "I miss my family, too." She smiles sadly.

"Are they dead?" He wonders if it's acceptable to ask ghosts about their families. This place used to be a mental hospital, maybe she killed them all.

"No," she shakes her head. "I just can't go back to them. It's complicated."

Luke finishes his soup in silence. Then he slides back down on the mattress and goes back to sleep.

The next time he wakes up it's daytime, probably late afternoon, based on the sun. There's an old bedpan next to the mattress, which Luke is grateful for. The ghosts seem to have thought of everything. This time Crazy Bathroom Guy is sitting in the chair, almost at the end of The Shining.

Luke feels a little better. His headache is down to a dull ache now and his ribs aren't as bad.

"Feeling better?"

Luke nods. He looks around and sees the water bottle next to the bed - someone has kept it filled for him. He takes a long drink and sets it back down again. When he looks at Crazy Bathroom Guy, he notices that his eyes are bright blue. He could have sworn they were brown before.

"Who are you?"

The man tilts his head to the side. "Taub. Sometimes."

"Oh." Luke looks back down. He has no idea what to say to a crazy ghost. "Can I have more soup?"

Taub gets up and wanders over to the camp stove and starts cooking.

"Where'd the stuff come from?" He'd always thought ghosts were stuck in one place or something. It looks like this bunch can get out and go shopping. Unless it's the ghost of a camp stove and he's eating ectoplasm or...yeah. He tries not to think too hard about that.

"We can make short trips out of here," Taub says as he hands over a bowl of hot soup. "We just can't go far."

"So there are rules?"

Taub shrugs. "He doesn't let us go far. He keeps coming back here. He feels safe here."

"Who?"

"Gabriel," Taub says. He grimaces as he looks down at his hands. "They're still not right," he mutters to himself. When he looks back up, his left eye is bright blue but the right has turned brown. "He's falling apart and taking us with him. That's why we need your help."

Luke doesn't answer. He eats his soup and tries to ignore the fact that Taub's eyes keep changing and something in his face keeps shifting, just under the skin. He finishes, then goes back to sleep.

It's night again, the next time Luke wakes up. This time there's another woman sitting in the chair. She's older, but not too old; tiny and bird-like, and something about her reminds Luke of a wrung-out dish rag. He tries not to stare that the handle of the scissors embedded in her chest.

"Who are you?"

The woman sniffs. "Virginia. And I didn't agree to this. They just bullied me into it." She glares at him. "I'm not making you any more soup."

"Okay." Luke drinks more water and stares at her. "You don't have to feed me. I'm fine." He doesn't want to eat ectoplasm anyway.

Virginia nods, apparently to herself. "They're trying to stop him, you know. But I won't let them."

Luke nods, wonders what she's babbling about. He remembers Taub's ramblings and wonders if they're connected. "Do you mean Gabriel?"

Virginia sits up straighter and nods emphatically. "He's my son. He's very special. He's going to be president." Her eyes shine with a light that makes Luke remember the church his mom dragged him to, where the people spoke in tongues and writhed on the ground like they were having seizures. "He's just a little confused right now, and they're all trying to stop him and hold him back. But I won't let them. I know he's meant for more!"

"Okay," Luke says, unsure how to respond. "Is that how you got, you know..." he makes a gesture toward his chest, mimicking a stabbing motion. "Was that them or him?"

Virginia looks a little lost and sad. "Gabriel did it, but it was an accident. He never meant to hurt me. He's a good boy."

Luke very much doubts that, but he's not about to argue with a crazy dead lady. Instead, he decides to go back to sleep.

The next morning it's the older guy, and there's definitely a knife sticking out of the base of his skull. Luke tries not to stare, but his eyes are drawn to it. The guy is leaning against the wall casually, glancing out the window.

"Want more soup?"

Luke clears his throat. He feels better. His head doesn't hurt so much and his ribs are better. He's mostly tired. "Yeah." He wonders if it's safe to ask questions. "You're not feeding me ectoplasm or something like that, right?"

The man half-smiles, then picks up one of the soup cans and inspects it seriously. "No, that definitely isn't listed. Sodium and preservatives, but no ectoplasm."

"Okay." Luke sits up and leans against the wall. "Just making sure. This is a little weird, you know."

One eyebrow quirks up. "Tell me about it."

"I never got your name."

"Danko. Emile Danko." He holds out his hand and Luke takes it. Danko's hand is solid and warm. Not that Luke has any idea what a ghost would feel like.

"You know who I am," he says.

"I know many things," Danko replies.

"Is that part of being dead? Like, knowing stuff? You die and then you know stuff you never knew before?"

Danko looks amused. "Not quite. I can tell you from personal experience that it's not fun."

Luke snorts. "Yeah." He makes a motion toward the back of his head. "That must've hurt."

Danko reaches back and fingers the hilt of the blade. Luke winces, suddenly aware that this could turn gross. "I think he thought of it as poetic." He drops his hand. "You know, I wouldn't have said this when I was alive, but now that I'm dead there's not much he can do. The man is a complete drama queen. A needy, clingy, narcissistic drama queen. It's a waste, really. He could have been so much more, but he's weak." He pauses. "On the positive side, he craves approval; he's malleable and highly susceptible to suggestion. These can all be used against him."

Like nods. "Is this that Gabriel guy?"

Danko raises an eyebrow, and Luke has the feeling he's missing something. "Yes, I'm talking about Gabriel." He looks like he wants to say more, but stops and scoops the soup into a bowl and hands it to Luke.

"Thanks." He eats quickly, glad to have an appetite again. "And, you know, thanks for helping." He doesn't add that he's grateful the ghosts haven't killed him.

"We can use your help," Danko says. "But it'll wait until you're better. You should sleep now."

Luke isn't going to argue with a dead guy, and sleep seems like a good idea. So he does.

That afternoon, Taub is back. He's wandering around the room, running his fingers gently across the walls. His eyes are shifting between blue and brown again. Luke thinks it's even more disturbing than Danko's knife or Virginia's scissors.

"This place was a mental hospital for over a hundred years, did you know that?" He doesn't wait for a reply, just keeps walking slowly, trailing his fingers along the wall. "So many people lived here and died here. So many stories. So many needed help and were all alone."

"Is that what happened to you? Were you a patient?" Luke's decided that they don't seem to mind talking about their deaths, and he's really curious about Taub. He can't think of anything that would make his eyes do their thing.

"No," Taub says absently. He stops and picks up an old pencil and stares at it intently. Luke waits, but Taub just stands there, staring at the damn thing like he's in a trance.

"So," Luke tries again. "You're a ghost."

Taub looks at the wall, tilts his head like he's listening to someone. "I suppose you could call me that. After all, what is a soul? Just a collection of random electrical impulses and stored data, memories and feelings that can be copied, right?"

"Okay." Luke decides maybe he better not push the issue. Taub isn't playing with a full deck. "Did that Gabriel guy kill you too?"

Taub doesn't answer. Instead, he wanders off. But the way he twitched when he heard Gabriel's name is all the answer Luke needs.

The next time he wakes up, Alice is back. She's still swinging her headless doll by the foot, and she's staring at him like she's never seen a guy before. Maybe she hasn't. Luke has no idea what her story is.

"Danko said to tell you to drink your Gatorade." She points at a half-empty bottle next to the bed. "He said something about electrolytes." She pronounces the word slowly, like she memorized it but doesn't know what it means.

Luke picks up the bottle. "What happened to the rest of it?"

Alice ducks her head. "I wanted to try it. It's a pretty orange, but it tasted funny." She pauses. "And Danko said to tell you there isn't electroplasm in there."

"You mean ectoplasm." Luke drinks the Gatorade obediently.

Alice shrugs. "I guess." She sits on the chair, and her feet don't reach the floor. She swings her legs and sighs the sigh of a bored kid. "I want to get out of here. I want to see the world."

"It must suck, being stuck in here," Luke says.

Alice nods. "You need to get better and help us get out of here."

"How?"

Alice shrugs. "I think Danko has a plan. He's good at planning." She tilts her head, and she suddenly looks a lot like Taub. "I have to go now," she says. She doesn't even say goodbye before she skips out of the room.

Danko walks in a few minutes later and smiles at Luke. Luke thinks the man should be scary, but he isn't. The knife is weird, but so far Danko has been pretty friendly.

"Is Alice okay?"

Danko nods, then pulls the chair closer to Luke's mattress and straddles it, resting his forearms on the back of the chair.

"Alice is better at taking care of herself than you'd think."

"Did Gabriel kill her, too?"

Danko nods. "In that particular case I think it was almost a mercy killing." He shakes his head. "I can't imagine what she went through, all those years."

"How many of you are there?"

Danko looks thoughtful. "I'm not sure. There are a lot, but only a few of us have been able to ...manifest. I guess that's the best word for it. Taub was the one who figured it out. He could take over when Gabriel was asleep, as long as he was careful not to wake him up. The rest of us learned from him, but most don't want to come out. They're too weak."

Luke nods like he understands what Danko is talking about. It sounds like being a ghost is harder in real life than in the horror movies. But maybe, he thinks, the ones he sees are the ones with the biggest grudge. That's usually how it works. Which means that whatever they want from him, it's not going to be easy. It'll probably be dangerous. In fact, he can even guess what it is - they want him to take on Gabriel, the psycho who killed them. Luke has played enough games to know the boss monster is a boss for a reason - Gabriel probably has plenty of weapons and has already killed plenty of people. With chainsaws and stuff. In real life, Luke knows, there are no extra lives or game saves. He has no intention of doing it. He may not be as smart as some people, but Luke is a survivor, and survivors don't take on uber ghost bosses. But he tries to look sick and bored because he also knows there's no way he's getting out of this place if Danko and the other ghosts suspect he plans to run.

"So," Danko says. "What are your plans?"

Luke wonders if ghosts can somehow read minds, if Danko knows he's thinking about escape. He swallows, then drinks more Gatorade to cover his nervousness. "What do you mean?"

"You're running from the government, and they're serious about finding you. You must have a better plan than squatting in abandoned buildings."

Luke figures it can't hurt to tell the dead guy his long term plans, especially since Danko and his friends are trapped in the hospital. "I'm going to Alaska. It's big and easy to get lost in. I figure it's a good place to hide."

Danko nods his approval. "Not a bad idea, assuming you make it. But once you get there, what then?"

"I dunno," Luke says. "Maybe work on a fishing boat or something."

"That means you'll be trapped on a boat. If they find you, you won't be able to escape."

"Huh." Luke ponders this. "I hadn't thought of that."

"Do you have any experience backpacking or mountain climbing? Any wilderness survival skills?"

Yeah. Luke knows where this is going. Danko is making him feel dumb, and he hates feeling dumb. "No," he says sullenly. He refrains from pointing out that he's not the dead guy here.

"I do," Danko says. "I've got plenty of experiences in the Arctic. So does Taub - he was into extreme backpacking. We could help you."

"Really?" Yeah, Luke knows exactly where this is heading. "In exchange for..."

Danko's smile is cold; the man knows Luke knows what's coming next. "We've helped you. It's your turn to return the favor."

Luke sighs. "I figured."

"We want an exorcism."

Luke blinks. This is a twist. "Don't you need a priest or something for that?"

"Not necessarily. We're gathering the materials; we just need you to say the words."

"Oh." Luke glances around nervously. He figures he can grab his pack and make a break for the front door after Danko leaves. He's still tired and achy, but he's a lot better than he was.

"By the way," Danko says conversationally, "When we stole the food and stove, we also grabbed some Ambien. You just drank enough that you should be out cold for most of the night. Just in case you were thinking of leaving." He stands and stretches. "Not that we don't trust you or anything. But your psych profile indicated you're not the most dependable person in the world. The words 'borderline sociopath' were used, I believe. Sometimes you have to make do with the tools at hand, so that's what we're doing with you. We should have everything ready tomorrow." He leaves with a smirk that plainly says he thinks he's won.

Fuck that. Luke decides he's leaving, right now. But as he stands the room spins around him. He slides back down to the mattress and decides to close his eyes, just for a few minutes. "Bastard," he mutters to himself.

The night is full of odd dreams, weird noises and the occasional nightmare. At one point Luke wakes up and is sure he sees the words 'Get Out' on the wall, written in blood. He'd be more than happy to, he thinks, only they won't let him. Damn crazy ghosts can't make up their minds. He burrows back into his sleeping bag and is out like a light.

The next morning the words are still there. Only as he looks closer, Luke sees they're not written in blood. It looks more like rusty water. "Funny, guys," he mutters to himself. "Real funny." He casually ambles downstairs, minus his backpack and sleeping bag, because he doesn't want to make anyone suspicious. But as soon as he's near the front door, it deliberately slams shut. He puts his shoulder to the door and shoves, but it doesn't budge. All he does is hurt his shoulder and wear himself out.

"Fine! I get it!" He yells into the darkness. Then he goes back upstairs and sits on his sleeping bag and sulks. Stupid ghosts.

A few hours later Alice shows up. She hands him a notebook, where someone has written lots of weird words in a neat, precise hand.

"Danko said to give you this," she says. "You have to say the words."

Luke furrows his forehead as he tries to make out what the pages say. Yeah, it's written neatly, but he has no idea how to pronounce half of it. Not that he'll have a chance - if the horror movies are right, he'll be ripped in half before he finishes the first paragraph.

"What the fuck is this?"

"Latin." Alice is gone, and Danko is the one leaning against the wall. "It's a classic. Like I said, Gabriel is extremely susceptible to suggestion, so we have to use Latin if this is going to work."

"So, like, I just say this stuff and he goes away?" Yeah, like it's going to be that easy.

"Not him. Virginia."

Luke raises an eyebrow. "We're exorcising the old lady? What about her psycho son?"

Danko just smiles. "We have plans of our own for him, but we need to eliminate her first. This should do the trick. Especially if we make sure he can see it."

Luke sighs the sigh of a condemned man. "Fine. And then I can go?"

Danko nods. "Then you're free to go. But if it does work, some of us might come with you." When Luke pulls a face, Danko grins at him. "We can come in handy, you know." Luke just snorts. "Fine. We'll get everything ready. For now, let's walk through this."

As Danko helps with the pronunciation, Luke gives him a sideways glance. "How come we're not exorcising you when I read this?"

Danko rolls his eyes. "Because it doesn't work that way. We're setting up a circle and using plenty of props. It's not just the words, it's the whole package."

"Oh." Luke tries to remember all of the movies he's seen with exorcisms. "Do you have salt?"

Danko shrugs. "Why not? We're throwing everything we've found in there. It should work. We've done our research."

As they finish the walk through, Danko stands up. "Come down to the dining room in thirty minutes. We'll have everything ready."

"Whatever." Luke sighs, wondering if he'll get his own room when Gabriel kills him and he turns into a ghost.

Thirty minutes later, Luke follows instructions and walks slowly downstairs to the dining room. The front door is still shut, still refuses to open. Luke resolutely puts one foot in front of the other as he walks the final few feet to the room where he's going to die. When he gets in there, he sees the room is lit by candles. There's a circle with a star in it on the floor, and Virginia is tied to a chair in the middle of the circle.

She looks at him and sniffs disdainfully. "I don't know what they think they're doing," she says. "Gabriel will be very upset."

Luke looks around nervously. Gabriel is probably a demon, with big fangs dripping blood and venom and stuff, and as soon as he starts this exorcism the demon will come to rescue his mother. Or maybe Virginia will transform into a demon herself. Luke's hands shake as he raises the paper, and his throat constricts painfully. He just hopes it doesn't hurt too much when he's killed.

He says the words, careful to pronounce each one exactly as Danko said. Virginia sits in the chair, looking bewildered at first, but around the third paragraph she becomes more agitated.

"What are you doing, you nasty little boy? Stop it!" She shakes, her skin shifting like something beneath it is trying to get free.

Luke takes a deep breath and waits for her to change into a slobbering giant demon from the bowels of Hell and break free of the ropes and attack him. He speaks more quickly, careful not to trip over the words, since he's seen Army of Darkness and knows that kind of mistake only makes things worse.

Virginia never attacks. Instead, as he gets to the end, she looks like she's having a seizure. She shakes and shudders and howls, and as he finishes and puts the notebook down, Luke watches as she transforms into someone he's all too familiar with.

"Sylar? What he fuck?" Luke screeches as he throws the stupid notebook. He knows he sounds ridiculous, but...what the fuck? Is Sylar one of the ghosts, or has this all been some kind of sick joke?

He reaches out and pokes Sylar, who opens his eyes slowly.

"Luke?" He looks honestly confused, but Luke has no idea what that could mean. "My mom...."

And suddenly Luke remembers. He remembers Samson's son's name - Gabriel, named after the angel, and things start to click into place. As they click, Sylar sits up straight and his skin ripples as he changes into Danko. The ropes untie themselves and he steps easily out of the circle.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Luke runs his hands though his hair and wonders if he's lost his mind. "Sylar? And...what the fuck?"

Danko just looks satisfied. He smiles to himself. "I think it worked."

"What worked? Can I just get a straight answer?"

"I guess you deserve that," Danko says. "Let's go upstairs and get packed."

Luke follows obediently, watching as Danko packs up the camp stove and some fresh fruit and other groceries he hadn't even noticed. Danko tosses a red apple, which Luke catches.

"So," Danko begins. "You've seen those Willy Wonka movies, right? There's the girl who gets greedy and eats the gobstopper, then she blows up and turns blue. Same thing happened to Sylar. He got greedy, took too many powers too quickly, and then he broke down. He'd go to sleep as himself and wake up as Taub. Sometimes he forgot who he was." He pauses, then takes a bite of his own apple. "I don't know if I'm really Emile Danko, or just some of his memories combined with some aspect of Sylar's personality. Frankly, I don't really care. What matters to me is that I'm alive."

Luke tries to wrap his mind around this and fails. "You mean he's got a split personality now? And a body for each one?"

Danko shrugs. "You can think of us as that, kind of a collective in one body. It's crowded, but we don't have any other options. We just wanted to get rid of Virginia. She kept pushing him and he was torn between doing what she wanted and trying to have a real life, which is what we wanted. That's why we had you eliminate her. She's the reason he insisted on hiding here."

"But if she's not really a ghost, why'd the exorcism work?" This kind of thing hasn't been covered in the horror movies, Luke thinks. Maybe he should write a horror movie of his own, while he's in Alaska. He could make some money off that.

Danko shrugs. "What's important is that he believes it. I think he just needed an excuse to get rid of her but to avoid taking responsibility for doing it. This way we're the guilty ones, not him."

"What now?"

"Now," Danko says, "we make a few changes, then we all road trip to Alaska."

"Okay." Luke draws out the word. He wonders what it's going to be like, road tripping with a super powered serial killer with multiple personalities.

Danko raises an eyebrow. "Taub's really into diner food, and Alice wants to see the world's biggest ball of twine." He pauses. "And, with all of us along, nobody will be able to capture you. We're unstoppable."

This doesn't sound like a bad deal. Only there's one thing that worries Luke. "What about Sylar?"

Danko smirks. "He's being taken care of. You finish packing and come downstairs and we'll show you. I think it's a good balance between what we want and what he wants."

Luke shrugs and finishes eating his apple as he watches Danko fade into the shadows. His life, he thinks, has gotten really, really weird lately.

When Luke finishes rolling up his sleeping bag and throwing the rest of his stuff into his pack, he walks down to the first floor. The front door is open, bright afternoon sunshine spilling inside. There's a shape in the sunshine, and Luke squints, trying to identify it. Whoever it is, they're even shorter than Alice. As he comes closer, he sees it's a boy. He's maybe seven years old, wearing a worn blue cardigan and glasses that are too big for his face. The kid looks a little sad, and very serious. Luke stoops down next to him.

"Hi," he says. The kid just looks scared, so Luke holds out his hand. "I'm Luke."

The boy looks scared, but he pushes his glasses up his nose, then takes Luke's hand and shakes it briefly. "My name is Gabriel," he whispers.

Luke blinks, then stands up. This is weird, but no weirder than things have been so far. "It's nice to meet you, Gabriel." He takes the kid's hand and leads him out of the hospital and to his car. "Ever been to Alaska?"


End file.
